Deflated

I don’t even know what to do anymore

I don’t know where to start

All that I’m doing is nothing

All that I want to do is art

But I’m like a tire

That is becoming flat

The farther I travel

The more air I lack

I’m in the final stretch

I can’t go on like this

Some days I say “what’s the point”

Other days, I hardly exist

 

A D.W. Original

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